Brittany Pierce Graduates
by thegayestarabian
Summary: With Santana's help, of course.


_A/N: Well, I got angry enough about the finale to write this in retaliation. Enjoy._

_Disclaimer: if I owned Santana and Brittany I would treat them with a little more respect._

* * *

Sometimes Santana likes to prowl the hallways while everyone else is in class.

She's usually a good student when it comes to attendance but it's becoming harder and harder to give a fuck when she's sure Brittany is hiding something from her.

And besides, she has that scholarship Brittany helped her get. So it's no big deal if she skips class every once in a while to go out for a smoke.

She noticed that Brittany was hiding something last Friday. They were doing their usual end-of-the-week food and movie binge after Cheerios practice. This was usually their time to cuddle and indulge in each other after a long, tiresome week; Brittany nestled into Santana, burrowing her forehead into the crook of Santana's neck as Santana kissed her temple. The movie was done, and they were just enjoying one another's company.

But as Santana ran her foot lightly along Brittany's calf, she felt it. Tension. Running along Brittany's body, from head to toe – Brittany was stretched taut with it, like a rubber band. Santana shifted her head a little and saw that Brittany's eyebrows were pinched together in a small frown. Her eyes were tinged with sadness.

Santana tapped a little rhythm into Brittany's shoulder with her index finger, trying to keep the mood light.

"Babe, are you okay? Do you want to go somewhere?"

Brittany looked up at her, puzzled. Santana could feel her forcing her face to relax into an easy smile.

"No, I'm alright. I'm happy."

Santana kissed her again, on the cheek this time. "All-right, honey."

But Santana knew Brittany better than anyone. She knew that things weren't as okay as Brittany wanted her to think they were. But she knew better than to pester her further – _all in due time, Santana_, she thought quietly to herself.

Which leads her here – prowling the corridors, pulling her cigarette pack out of the back pocket of her jeans (Sue's away – she has an appointment with the baby doctor, which explains the lack of uniform), and halting right outside the choir room, where she hears Brittany's soft, child-like lilt.

"...I don't know what to do, Tina. Figgins called me into his office and told me I'm not graduating."

Tina's sewing; Nationals is coming up and she needs to make sure she gets her fellow Glee clubbers measurements right. She clucks her tongue sympathetically and looks up from her handiwork, putting her hands on Brittany's while Santana watches on. They're both oblivious to her presence but Santana almost swears that Tina's eyes flicker to hers for a moment before asking,

"Britt, have you asked Santana to help you? Have you spoken to her about this at all?"

Brittany looks at her like she's stupid.

"No, of course not. I don't want her to know I'm failing."

Tina's bewildered. "Brittany...why not?"

Brittany shrugs and scuffs her shoe on the linoleum floor, but Santana can see that she's trying to hold back tears. "Everyone else at this school already thinks I'm stupid. It'll kill me if Santana thinks it, too."

Santana staggers back – she didn't expect that to come from Brittany, and she certainly didn't expect it to hurt so much. Hadn't she always told Brittany that she thought she was the smartest person out there? Did Brittany think she was lying about it?

She gets to the glass doors of McKinley and shoves them open, ripping her lighter out of the pocket of her jeans and putting a cigarette firmly in her mouth. Her hands are shaking and there's a lump in her throat that she hopes the smoke will get rid of. She's on her third cigarette when she hears a voice behind her.

"Well, who pissed _you_ off?"

Santana wrenches her eyes away from the crater on the opposite wall of brick and forces herself to look at Puck, leaning against the brick red wall and taking swigs from a flask. He sees the tears in her eyes and immediately assumes.

"Is this about Brittany?"

She nods and lets a sob rip out of her. Puck's never been one for hugging – that's not his thing – but he does awkwardly pat her on the back and take the cigarette out of her hand before she burns her clothes with it.

"Did she tell you she might not be graduating?"

Well, now _Santana_ feels stupid. "You knew?"

He chuckles lightly. "Y'know, you've always given her a lot more credit that she deserves. Santana, your girl...your girl's not the brightest of 'em all."

Santana balls her hands into tight white fists and holds them at her sides, trying to resist shoving him. "But don't you see that she is? She _is_ bright. She's just never had anyone believe in her – all she needs is someone to believe in her..."

Puck ponders this and takes another swig from his flask, saying, "well, have you guys figured anything out? I mean, she did talk to you about it.."

Santana lets a small, bitter laugh escape her. "No, she hasn't. I just found out because she was talking to _Tina_ about it."

"Oh...well, maybe she has a plan. Maybe that's why she hasn't talked to you yet. Maybe she wants to surprise you."

"No Puck, don't you get it? She thinks I'm going to start thinking she's stupid too, just like the rest of you do. None of you have ever made Brittany feel smart or appreciated or any of the things I try my best to make her feel.." Santana tries not to cry but it doesn't work – tears make their way down her face to the tip of her chin, where she wipes them off defiantly.

"Well, I'll show her."

* * *

It's Friday again and Brittany and Santana are on Santana's couch, kissing. Brittany begged her to forget about watching a movie tonight - "I need you so much," she whispered roughly against Santana's neck, as Santana let out a thin moan at the feel of teeth versus skin.

She's sure they're not going to do any talking tonight – Brittany's biceps feel strong and secure as they pull her off the couch and to her bed, and her kisses taste a tad too lonely for Santana to let them go unattended.

* * *

Santana wakes up before Brittany for once; she lets her gaze linger on the way Brittany's eyelashes fan out on her cheekbones and she counts the freckles on Brittany's nose until Brittany's eyes snap open before relaxing at the sight of Santana in front of her.

Santana can't really imagine how lonely Brittany must be feeling right now. Everyone and their mother's helping Puck study for his Geography exam – but did no one think to offer a helping hand to Brittany S. Pierce, their Senior Class President and, in Santana's opinion, most awesomest person at this bullcrap school?

She resolves to help Brittany pass. Whatever it takes. Which shouldn't be much, since Brittany spends her nights solving Sudoku puzzles and peering through Santana's AP Biology books when she thinks Santana isn't looking.

Brittany whispers good morning and tries to pry her arm out of Santana's grip but Santana holds her fast. She looks at her quizzically before quirking an eyebrow and giving her a suggestive smile.

"I thought you wouldn't have any energy after last night but I guess I'm game if you are...what's wrong, Santana?"

"Britt.." her voice sounds croaky; she clears her throat. "Britt, you do know that I think you're the smartest person alive, right?" Santana's voice is wet with tears and it cracks mid-sentence. Brittany closes her eyes and tries harder to pull away, but Santana won't let her.

Santana pulls her in close – they're naked, so it's skin against heated skin.

"Baby, you know you can tell me anything I swear I won't judge all I ever wanted to do was help you the way you helped me last year..." she tries to coax Brittany's eyes open but they won't budge – Brittany scrunches her eyelids together so the tears won't leak out.

"Britt, honey...I promise I'm going to help you. There's no way in hell I'm graduating without you." She leans her forehead against Brittany's; for a moment, they're breathing the same air.

Then Brittany pulls away and runs out the door, clothes in hand – and Santana lets her go.

* * *

Brittany comes back an hour later, and Santana's just where she left her. Sitting on the edge of her bed in nothing but a flimsy sleep shirt and a cigarette in her hand.

Brittany coaxes the cigarette out of Santana's mouth and snubs it on Santana's bed-post.

"That's bad for you," she says quietly. "Carbon monoxide's carcinogenic."

Santana exhales a weak laugh and peers up at Brittany through her eyelashes.

"Have I ever told you that you're the smartest person I know?"

Brittany says nothing. She just smiles.

"Alright, so the integral of a function is basically the area under the graph of that function," Santana picks up a pencil and sketches a parabola in Brittany's notebook, "and the derivative is the slope of the tangent line to the curve at basically any point. So basically, if we take one point..." Santana picks up a pencil and chooses a random point on the parabola, worrying her tongue between her teeth and drawing a line that just touches the curve at that point, "and plug the value of 'x' into the derivative function, we can get 'y' – Britt, why are you staring at me like that?"

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

A dull blush covers Santana's cheeks then. Brittany's peering at her in a very matter-of-fact way that's making her feel self-conscious. She playfully whacks Brittany's arm with the pencil and looks deep into her eyes for a split second before saying,

"Britt, whether I'm beautiful or not isn't the point. The point is this parabola" - she points at it with the back end of her pencil - "and getting you to understand it."

Brittany nods resolutely, and they solve exercises Pre-Calculus exercises for two hours before Brittany's eyes gloss over with feigned interest.

Santana's been teaching Brittany for a few weeks now, but she feels that she's learning just as much about Brittany as Brittany's learning about Pre-Cal, Biology and Physics – the only subjects Brittany will let Santana teach her, vowing to study English by herself.

She knows a few major things about the way Brittany studies now; her eyes glazing over means she's not absorbing information anymore. Her finger tracing lines on the bottom corner of the page means she's interested; and when she's interested, she asks questions that Santana can't even answer.

Because Brittany? Brittany's smart and she _knows_ the material. Hell, Santana would even go so far as to say that Brittany probably knows more than her, and Santana's in AP classes – the other day she tried to explain endosymbiotic theory to Santana, and how it came to be; needless to say, Santana was flummoxed. How does someone so smart give up on herself so easily?

The only thing Brittany lacks is the fire of willpower. She can't bring herself to study because she's resigned herself to the fact that she's not graduating because she's dumb – and teachers like Schuester, Figgins and Sue only add fuel to the fire.

A short while after Santana started teaching Brittany, she started remembering a conversation they had when they were younger: they were sitting on the benches in the park on a Saturday morning because Britt had wanted to go for a jog and Santana had wanted to tag along. One thing led to another and they started talking about their futures, and Santana asked Brittany what she wanted to be when she grew up.

Brittany had scrunched her face up adorably and answered: "I don't know, San. I just want to be really smart" - her eyes light up - "like that Bruce Banner guy."

It took a while for Santana to figure out who Bruce Banner was, but now she knows. She's going to help Brittany get there, because when Brittany says the dream Santana _should_ help build the dream; right?

* * *

Santana tucks Brittany in the night before her first exam, and every night after. It's an old-fashioned notion, but it works wonders for Brittany's nerves; as far as she's concerned, Brittany sleeps pretty soundly on those nights.

Santana, on the other hand, faces dreadful dreams of Brittany failing with tears in her eyes, Brittany's parents' (who aren't very happy with Brittany at this point) faces if Brittany does fail, the smug grins of the Glee clubbers who helped Puck pass his Geography test – but then she remembers that this is _Brittany_. Brittany won't fail.

(She believes in Brittany as much as Brittany believed in her last year, when times were tough and she thought she would die trying to hide their relationship.)

So it's no surprise when Brittany aces her English and Biology tests and passes the rest of them, making her eligible for graduation; Brittany holds onto Santana like she's the oxygen keeping her alive, peppering kisses all over her scalp and face and whispering, "I couldn't have done it without you," over and over into her ear.

Santana doesn't argue because she knows Brittany will deny it, but she's pretty sure Brittany would've managed without her. But she's glad to help, either way.

* * *

Their last few days of school are uneventful at best – they perform 'You Get What You Give' for the juniors then skip the rest of their classes. They're not going to waste any time pretending that they like everyone – though Santana and Brittany genuinely feel happy for Mercedes and Mike and even Quinn, and tell them so.

They spend their final hours under the bleachers and Quinn joins them for a while, and they reminisce about their early glory days on the Cheerios – well, Quinn and Santana reminisce while Brittany holds onto Santana's hand like it's her anchor – and when Quinn leaves, Santana quirks an eyebrow in Brittany's direction.

"Britt, why are you holding my hand so tightly?"

She snatches her hand back like Santana's skin's an open flame. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." but Santana takes her hand back and holds it rigidly in hers.

"I looked at some university websites today."

Santana swallows back the lump in her throat. "And?"

Brittany's poker face facade breaks into a queasy smile. "Well...I've already missed all the deadlines."

Santana tries to look more calm than she feels. "You can always apply for the January semester."

Brittany looks like she has something to say, so Santana waits – until Brittany blurts out, "I still can't believe you did it, Santana. I can't believe I'm not going to spend another yea-"

"We, Britt. _We_ did it."

Brittany exhales and says in a smaller voice, "I can't believe we did it. And I feel like I keep looking for obstacles to stop me from applying – these universities need my SAT scores, and I haven't done my SATs yet, and -"

Santana chuckles lightly, extending her pinky for Brittany to link hers to. "Well, if that's what you're worried about...the SATs are nothing a little studying can't help defeat."

A few days later, Santana doesn't hug Brittany in the audience; instead, Brittany stands on stage with her in a red robe and cap, singing her heart out, eyes shiny with tears as she links her and Santana's pinkies together and kisses her chastely on stage – and Santana privately thinks that they look way hotter than Finn and Rachel playing tonsil hockey a few yards away from them.

Figgins seems to agree; he looks at Finn with an air of disgust and comes over to personally congratulate Brittany – Senior Class President – for her achievement.

(Brittany looks over at Santana proudly and calls it _their_ achievement, which leaves Figgins standing there looking a bit puzzled.)

Outside, they take pictures with the Pierce family and the Lopez family – eventually, Sam Evans ends up behind the camera and they all end up trying to squeeze into one picture with Santana and Brittany in the centre.

(Santana swears she can hear Sam coaxing them closer to each other in his mind, so she mindlessly squeals and hoists herself onto Brittany's waist, wrapping her thighs around it. Sam takes the picture and gives her a small thumbs up.)

* * *

Summer goes and comes and they spend it in each other's company; before long, Santana's packing her bags and Brittany's moping around her room, trying to help her pack while trying to stifle her chest pains at the same time.

At least Santana's decided to stay in Ohio instead of going off to Kentucky. She'll be two hours away and Brittany has her license – she can drive down there whenever it suits her fancy.

(Brittany's parents are going to have to set up a gas fund. No question.)

They say goodbye on Santana's lawn – Maribel gives them a few moments alone as they exchange wet kisses back and forth – and it's 45 minutes later and Santana's nuzzling Brittany's neck, trying to make her tears stop. Brittany decides to be the stronger of the two and kisses Santana's temple with an air of finality.

"I'll be over there in January, don't you worry. Besides, who's going to show me around when I get there?" she jokes. Deep down she's dying just as much as Santana is, but one of them has to put a brave face on. Santana chuckles weakly and Maribel gives Brittany a knowing smile and rubs soothing circles into the small of Santana's back, wheedling her into the car and hugging Brittany with a gentle "come on over any time" before driving away, Santana kneeling up in the back seat and waving to Brittany until their car is out of her line of sight.

* * *

A few visits to Columbus and a job at Burt's mechanic shop later, Brittany's packing her bags and getting ready to go off to university. She aced her SATs – she scored a sweet 1930, not too shabby for someone who barely managed to pass high school.

The job at Burt's was fun – after her experience with motocross, the easy repair jobs that breezed into the shop during her shift were a piece of cake.

(And she'd be lying if she said Santana didn't like her uniform.)

She swings her backpack into the trunk along with her suitcase and says goodbye to her parents on their glossy white porch. They were a bit mad at her, at first, for missing the deadlines, but they're over it now. They give her the usual speech – don't talk to strangers, don't accept drinks or food from people you don't know, don't miss a call if it's from us – and then she's driving into the sunset, where Santana's waiting for her on the other side.

(She's going to spend the next four years of her life with the love of her life, and she's going to get smarter in the process. Things are looking good.)


End file.
